Where my demons hide
by Gasell
Summary: Set after the events of episode 3x04. Duke has had previous drug problems and now he might have a problem with the rush he gets from the blood of the trobles. How will he react to Audrey's help? One-shot.


_I own nothing, neither the characters nor the lyrics from where the name of the story is taken. Honestly, if I owned Duke Crocker, I would have other things to do than writing. ;) Thank you so much, phantom of the mental ward, for your kind words._

Audrey approaches Duke slowly as he stands behind the counter and cleans up the last of the half-empty glasses on the desk. She feels nervous over what's about to happen, yet she feels like she have to talk to him. Nathans words echo in her mind:_ It doesn't mean he's not going to learn to like it._ He sees her and smiles, and my god how she wishes that Nathan is wrong.

"Hi, Audrey, what's up?"

"I wanted to talk to you", she says, trying so hard to sound casual.

"Oh, sounds serious", he laughs jokingly, not knowing how right he is. "What is it?" He says a bit more serious, when he sees the look on her face.

"I… I'm worried that you might have a problem", she admits.

He stares at her, the smile now starting to fade away. "Are you kidding me?"

"No?" She says insecurely.

He pulls out something from his jeans pocket and puts it on the bench in front of him.

"Duke..."

"Look at it." He lifts up the coin. "Nine years. You see? It says _nine years_." He holds the coin close to her eyes.

"That's great, Duke."

"You don't think so", he says bitterly, "you think that I've pissed it off. Look!" He says and impulsively rolls up his sleeves to reveal hundreds of, yet nothing else than, tiny scars. "I'm not doing that to myself anymore and I thought you knew that", he says, sounding betrayed.

"I know, Duke. I know you're not doing drugs and I'm really proud of you. Nine years, I mean, that's-"

"Then what were you talking about? What kind of a problem?" He still sounds defensive, yet not so much as he did a couple of minutes ago.

"Your trouble."

He scoffs sarcastically. "Oh, my trouble. You mean the one that makes people force me to kill other people?" He says with his eyebrows raised and a pointed look. "That's the only time I've ever…" He can't even finish the sentence and she feels so bad for him.

"I know. That's not the point either." She pauses, not sure what to say.

"So?" He says, clearly irritated.

"We're afraid that you're going to get addicted to getting blood of the troubled on you", she admits, almost afraid to look at him.

"Who's 'we'?" He says in an attempt to subtly change the subject without her noticing, even though he clearly knows who she's referring to.

"He's worried too, you know."

"No, he's not", he says sarcastically and like he's never heard anything so stupid. "He's just afraid that I'll kill people. Which I don't do", he adds with emphasis and a harsh look, making her feel really guilty.

"When you get blood on you-"

"I get strong. Or telekinetic, sometimes. You know this", he says with an attempt at a frown, as if he doesn't know where she's going with this.

"And?"

"And?" He repeats.

"And your eyes turn silver and you look-"

He raises his eyebrows and looks questionably at her.

She sighs and mumbles: "You look high, Duke."

"I can't believe this. I _can't believe this_. Nine years without heroin, and what do I get? Accused for something I can't help!"

"I'm not accusing you, Duke, I want to help you."

"And then", he continues as if he hasn't heard her, "you tell me that I look high? You don't get to say that, because you don't have the slightest clue what that feels like, okay!?"

"No, I don't. I'm sorry. But Duke, do you honestly not get a kick out of absorbing the blood?"

He's about to protest, until he sees the look in her eyes. The kindness. She really cares. "Honestly? Yeah, I do. But not the heroin kind. Of course being strong gives me a kick, I feel like freaking superman! But heroin doesn't do that, that's not why you take it", he says, sounding a bit longing.

"And you don't think that rush can be addictive?"

"No, I don't."

"Did you get blood on you in the forest when you-"

"Yes. By accident."

"And today you touched that woman's leg", she says, trying not to sound accusingly but failing.

He stares at her as if he can't believe what he's hearing. "To get strong! To save her! You were there, you know that!"

"But you liked it, didn't you? That rush?"

"You know what?" He scoffs. "I don't have to take this." He's about to walk away, and then he comes back. "I moved here to get away from the drugs. I've been working my ass off every day for the last nine years, so I don't need to take this from you! It's insulting, is what it is!"

"That's not my intention, and you know it", she says, trying to sound calm even though she's really not. "Just like it's never someone's intention to become addicted, and yet they do", she says, giving him a pointed look.

"Yes, they do. I haven't, though. Not since the… The heroin", he mumbles. "And I can't believe that you think I would do something like that just for my own kicks!"

"I wouldn't blame you, Duke. How many times have I been here the last couple of weeks? We all need something to take the edge off sometimes, and god knows you've been through a lot. If you'd want something to make it easier-"

"Make it easier", he repeats, laughing slightly. "You know what would make it easier?" He stares at her. "Going out and finding the purest heroin I've ever had, filling a needle with it and sticking it in a vein. That would make my life a whole lot easier! But do I do that?" He looks at her with pain and tears in his eyes. "Or do I have nine years, four months and three days clean because I am _strong?_"

"I'm sorry, Duke. I didn't know it was this hard on you", she says, surprised. "I guess I thought that after nine years… I don't know."

"It gets easier all the time, but it's never going to be good." He swallows. "So when you talk to me about blood, I can't even-"

"You're right. I'm so sorry. I just wanted to make sure. Is there something I can do for you, to help you?"

"I think I just need to go to bed, okay?"

"Yeah, sure." He walks towards the door. "A hug?" She says awkwardly.

He stops, and then nods and turns around. They hug for a few seconds before he turns around, mumbles "good night" and walks out the door, his eyes with a bright silver shine.

Audrey never notices the tiny, bleeding scratch at the back of her neck.


End file.
